


Be a good boy for me, now

by Stupidusernamepolicy



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Body Worship, Dom Apprentice (The Arcana), Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Hand Jobs, Multi, No name given for the apprentice, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Submissive Lucio (The Arcana), contains traces of - Freeform, it gets just a little bit sad but rly just a little, lucio tries to pamper the apprentice gone wrong gone sexual, references to Lucio's trauma from his three years alone, the apprentice is tired and we can't have that, universe compliant Karen minor character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stupidusernamepolicy/pseuds/Stupidusernamepolicy
Summary: They’re sitting up straight, their shadow looming over him just slightly, his breathing audible. The command, though unspoken, is clear: beg.
Relationships: Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54





	Be a good boy for me, now

**Author's Note:**

> All work and no play makes the Apprentice a kinky person.

It’s no secret that the Apprentice is a diligent worker. Try as they might to shake off the reputation the do-gooder, responsible friend, saving the world as we know it from the brink of destruction through those traits pretty much cemented them. Even now, in their personal life, it’s hard to step away from work, no matter how little or how much is still left to be done.

Luckily, their new roommate is having none of that.

Lucio’s plan was simple: hang around to help the Apprentice with handling the shop, the customers, just as he usually does. Help out until around noon, then wait until the shop is empty and lock the doors behind the last customer, easy-peasy. It was a clever scheme, but he would hold back on patting his own back for now.

However, it’s simpler to say than to do, and after much toe-tapping and rushed checkouts, a few hours after midday he decided he’d had enough and all but ushered the last customers out with a well-practiced employee shout of “have a good one”. He flipped the sign in the front, locked the doors and rounded on the owner of the establishment, who was too busy taking stock of their inventory to notice anything amiss.

“Well, that’s the last of them,” he said in the best approximation of a nonchalant voice he could measure, stretching to really try and sell his act. His partner, ever the observant one, arched an eyebrow.

“Is it? The shop usually really gets going around this hour.” With a slouch to their shoulders, they regard the hourglass on the shelf, and Lucio swears he can see a new set of rings appear under their eyes as they speak, “In fact, that lady should be coming by soon. You know, the one with a feather hat?”

He can’t help the scowl curling his lips, knowing all too well which “lady” they’re talking about. Old hag always comes at the end of the day and then complains about how they don’t have any mug wort left.

However, he says none of that and instead clears his throat.

“Well, maybe she’s busy today!” he notes cheerily, a pep in his step as he makes his way over to his partner and puts a hand around their waist. As if on cue, no sooner does he put his hands on the Apprentice than a quick rap of knuckles against wood sounds from the outside. Lucio, thinking on his feet, quickly doubles over into a _very convincing_ coughing fit to drown the sound out. The Apprentice takes a step away, concern and confusion painted on their brow. Uh-oh, too convincing.

“Are you alright? Need a break?” He looks up and- yep, he probably overdid it.

“Ah, I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry,” He flashes them a brilliant grin, straightening and resting his hand on the small of their back, “But I think we should retire for the day.”

His beloved gives him a suspicious look under his eye, and just as he can feel his grin wavering, they sigh and look around the shop.

“Well, if there are really no more customers, I guess I can close up early, just for today.”

The grin Lucio gives them is positively beaming, and he quickly closes the doors to the downstairs behind them before the be-feathered nightmare can start trying the doorknob. When they get to the top of the stairs, with a soft, surprised “oh” from the Apprentice, he swoops them into his arms bridal style. He steps over Mercedes and Melchior napping on the doorstep to the living room, carrying them straight to the bathroom.

* * *

Before long, the two of them are sitting on the bed, clad in sheer robes, the ex-count behind the magician and gently drying their hair. Both of their work clothes lay abandoned on the doorstep of the bathroom, Lucio swearing that he will take care of them, later.

The Apprentice is looking a lot better now, practiced hands having reverently washed and massaged the tension out of their frame, and they let free a blissful sigh as he sets down the towel and starts brushing the tangles out of their hair, careful not to pull. Warm, late afternoon sunlight spills into the room through the window casting the room in an almost golden glow. The toasty aroma of cinnamon and cardamom wafts through the air, steaming from the cups of tea resting on the side of the bed.

Lucio, having deemed the grooming sufficient, settles down on the pillows and pats the pillows beside himself for the Apprentice to join him. Though, even as they do, their eyes don’t close, instead electing to watch their partner. Said partner, feeling their gaze, cracks open an eye to look at them too.

Their eyes still look tired, though the crease between their eyebrows is gone, and he feels a tinge of pride at his pampering skills. Elbow propped against the mattress, chin in hand, their eyes rove over Lucio’s features. As much as he loves to be admired by many, he feels immeasurably more exposed under that one set of eyes than he ever did in front of hundreds, thousands. In that gaze is a sea of adoration, deeper than the shallow pool of a crowd, bathing him warmer than the golden rays of light spilling into the room.

Those piercing eyes, so soft when they look upon him, so different from the thinly veiled irritation Noddy would regard him with, or the practiced, cold scorn Valerius would shoot his way every time he had to so much as suffer being in the same room as the count of Vesuvia. These eyes though, they were the first that looked beyond his visage, into his soul. And when they did, they looked all the world like they're seeing the most beautiful thing in the world.

At that moment it hits him that he’s the thing they’re looking at; the real him, and not just an unholy combination of his looks, status and mistakes. It’s almost dizzying, and makes a pleasant heat bloom both across his face and low in his stomach. Though, the Apprentice seems to miss that last part, instead chuckling the moment he feels heat rush to his face. Despite this, he gives them his best flirty grin, propping himself up on his elbow to get a better look at them,

“Well, see something you like?”

“Perhaps,” they grin in turn, eyes crinkled in amusement, “I hope the view is as nice for you as it is for me.”

His response is a laugh, sincere and mirthful. “If I could, I’d commission the finest painters in Vesuvia to immortalize it right now, so I could look at it forever.” A blush paints their cheeks, so he continues, emboldened, “In fact, I might just do it tomorrow.”

Another chuckle, and they go right back to staring at him, the unadulterated mirth dancing in their eyes almost blinding. But he can tell there’s something else beyond it, swimming in those eyes.

"You look like something's on your mind" he says, just a note of seriousness slipping into his voice.

“Oh, I’m just reminiscing,” they say nonchalantly, though a heavy expression passes over their face for a second as they tilt their head slightly, gone the moment their eyes fix on him, “About our first meeting.”

A grin, albeit a slightly uneasy one, splits his face, “What about it?”

“What you told me, when we first met in that bedroom.”

There’s an unspoken question that they can see in the crease of Lucio’s brow, and it hardly takes a fortune teller to read from that face. Instead of answering it right away though, they shift so they’re on all fours above Lucio. He flips to his back so he can still look at them easily, and is looking more and more confused by the minute. They pull out their best approximation of his accent,

“Beautiful, beautiful furs, but no back. No perfect face to smother with kisses.”

The emphasis they put on the last sentence seems to escape him completely, and he can feel his heart beating a jackrabbit pace. He coughs once, anxiety creeping into his voice.

“Wow uh, you remember that word for word?” His grin is wobbly. He doesn’t like remembering those days, even the part where his magician in shining armor came by and saved him from his misery. It’s all bittersweet, for the three cruel years preceding it, and the fitful weeks following it. The Apprentice, sensing the discomfort radiating off him in waves, purses their lips thoughtfully before continuing,

“I do, because guess what I’m looking at right now?”

For an awkward beat there’s only silence, the Apprentice still looming on all fours over the bewildered blonde, before realization dawns on him and worry all but dissipates from his eyes, lips curling into his signature smarmy smirk.

“Beautiful furs?”

Laughter, surprised and light is all the response he gets before hands cup both his cheeks soft kisses rain down on his face. Lucio knows he’s giggling too, leaning into the touch like a starving man to food, as if it’s the most natural thing ever; even if he can’t remember the last time someone actually did that, or if anyone ever did.  
Forehead, temples, eyelids, cheeks, nose, the Apprentice is nothing if not thorough. Their lips are feather light but not inattentive, making sure they pay proper attention to the small scars, near his right ear, on the bridge of his nose, on the line of his jaw, all of them exposed with his makeup washed off. They’re straddling his torso, now, and his arms wrap around their waist, closest to a hug he can manage from his position as they continue their ministrations.

A noise from the hallway shakes them out of their reverie and they freeze, two pairs of eyes flying to the doors.

Had someone come into the shop? They were closed, Lucio made sure the sign was flipped and everything! He bites back a frustrated sigh at the prospect of having to deal with yet another nosy customer, and remains silent. Then, he realizes the position the two of them are in, and with a hint of embarrassment he notes a sudden, warm twinge of a sensation low under his robe at the prospect of being found as they are. The thought makes him flush deeper, even more so when he comes up short on which he’d prefer, though the Apprentice doesn't seem to notice. Their eyes remain fixed on the doors, watching intently but likewise not moving a muscle.

Another noise, and they realize it's the dogs, apparently “talking” in their sleep. At the realization that it’s not a burglar or worse, the feather-hatted woman, all the tension bleeds out of the room, replaced with a renewed fit of relieved and embarrassed giggles, and finally the Apprentice presses a kiss onto his lips, parted in laughter. He pauses for just a moment before closing his eyes and melting into it.

The kiss is light, and when they part it’s only a blink before his arms are pulling them down again and he’s craning his neck up for another. This time it's a bit more urgent, passionate. Both of their minds lost to the kiss, bodies moving on their own and in sync, the Apprentice pushes him back down flat onto the bed, braced on their forearms above him, bottom still flush against his lower abdomen. His hands snake further to the small of their back, pinning their backside to himself, one hand cold and other warm, only the thin silken fabric of the robe separating them from their skin.

Soon enough, the Apprentice can feel something hard pressing against their backside, and with a smirk they press into the kiss more, teeth clacking together just slightly as their tongue becomes more insistent. They thrust their hips against his once, and they can feel his breath hitch in response. The Apprentice breaks the kiss, biting his bottom lip as they do. The ex-count, now red as a beet, is breathing hard, and if the bulge against their ass is anything to go off, painfully erect by now.

They giggle to themselves, fighting the urge to tease him for being so easily excitable. Instead, they smirk, straightening to take a good view of the beloved: eyes glazed over with pleasure and sweat already starting to bead on his brow. A hand comes down to cup his jaw lightly, tilting his head just slightly so he meets their eyes. Their thumb brushes the edge of his parted lips, slightly redder where their teeth had found purchase.

"You've been so good for me, Lucy." Their voice is low, only for him, and they feel a fine tremor going through his body at the nickname. "You've been working so hard."

Through the haze the words register and he snorts, considering how his main goal of today was making sure neither of them works hard.

Instead of admitting to that though, he deflects, the smirk and bravado doing nothing to hide his fluster, "hey, no fair, I was supposed to be pampering you". The apprentice's eyes crinkle in amusement, their hand sliding down from his jaw under his robe, chasing his shivers and lightly brushing over the many scars marring his porcelain skin, the urge to kiss every single one of them almost overwhelming.

They lower their head to his ear, a smile in their whisper, "you'll get your turn". They go lower, kissing and nipping at his neck, drawing small whimpers of pleasure. Their hands continue roaming across his chest, nails lightly trailing where their fingers go, pushing the folds of his robe aside.

They choose this moment to reposition, moving their body to his left so they're no longer straddling him, his right hand falling away to grab onto the sheets on his side, his prosthetic one still gripping the hem of their robe. Their left hand caressing his chest, their right was free to roam lower, separating the folds of his robe as they trailed his abs at an agonizingly slow pace.

Halfway down the happy trail, right before they get to the small tent at the edge of the dark fabric, pink tip very much visible beneath the sheer cloth, they pause. At their hesitation, Lucio gives a petulant whine, breathing their name, just short of a moan. He cracks an eye open to look at them, as if to ask “what’s the hold-up?”.

They watch with a silent, mysterious smile, still brimming with affection. If it’s at all possible, it only turns him on more and he tries to buck his hips for friction that he so desperately needs, but the cloth cannot provide. The strong hand on his stomach doesn't budge, flat against his abs as they flex uselessly. "Ask me nicely."  
He meets their eyes, looking confused for a beat, cogs in his overheated brain turning. Then he licks his lips, parting them a grin that could melt hearts, "please."

That same devilish smile still dances on their lips, words dripping with honey, "Oh, come on Lucy, we both know you can do better than that." They’re sitting up straight, their shadow looming over him just slightly, his breathing audible. The command, though unspoken, is clear: _beg_.

With little or shame hesitation, he swallows and speaks, "please, pretty please with a cherry on top." Their hand moves just slightly and they relish in his needy gasp at that slightest of sensations.

"Please, what?" they had hardly ever heard the stalwart count so winded, breathing as if he’d just run a marathon. "Pl-please" he manages out, forming sentences obviously already a herculean effort and voice so thick with need that the Apprentice just barely resists dropping the act and fulfilling his wish unconditionally, "please, fuck the daylights out of-"

His sentence is abruptly cut with a shameless gasp that dissolves into a high, needy moan, the Apprentice's hand having had moved just slightly, brushing just barely against his throbbing shaft. Despite this, their voice is still sweet, pretending as if nothing happened; however, their smirk doesn’t belie their intentions. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that. Could you repeat that?"

They think the look Lucio gives them is supposed to be annoyed, but almost none of it makes it through the thick veil of pleasure blanketing his features. It takes incredible skill to glower effectively while laying half naked and redder than a poppy in a nest of pillows, and sadly for Lucio he just isn’t up to the task. With delight they watch as he parts his legs slightly, limbs twitching uselessly, unable to move from under their intense gaze, the glisten of saliva on his parted lips, his heartbeat fast under their hand, chest rising and falling rapidly, and they think that they have truly never seen a prettier sight.

He tries again to squeeze out the words, his voice just slightly raspy from the heavy breathing. He repeats, as clearly as he can, "Please, pretty, pretty please, fuck me!"

As soon as the last syllable spills from his lips their hand closes around his shaft and he all but cries out in pleasure, fingers convulsing and twisting into the hem of their robe, his other arm covering his eyes and likewise curling into a fist. "Good boy" they whisper low, right hand stroking up and down his cock, which to their amusement twitches as they speak, almost as if in response to their words. Their other hand leaves his chest and rests on his jaw, a thumb hooking into the corner of his mouth, keeping it open and letting his moans and pleas spill unobstructed.

"You've been so good, so patient," fists clench tighter, neatly trimmed nails digging into his palm uselessly as he squirms under their deft touch. They look at his stiff cock, thinking about all the things they could do to it, how much they would love to ride it until they’re both beyond sore. While they’re lost in their lusty fantasies, he tries to buck his hips for more, more, more friction, but they notice soon enough and slow their pace to a crawl.

"Ah-ah-ah" they tut, and he peeks out from under his arm, eyes opening just enough trail to their face, giving a cross whine. "be a good boy for me and stay still."

Reluctantly, his hips still, and the moment they do, the Apprentice’s rhythm picks back up again, pumping his stiff cock with a touch more fervor, “There you go, good boy.”  
Sounds spill unbridled from his lips, wordless moans, their name, whispered pleas. They let out a pleased hum, "Such a beautiful sight" they lean in to bite at his flushed neck, leaving light, reddish marks wherever they sink their teeth into it, and they feel their core twist in excitement at the prospect of seeing them when the skin around them pales again. They release the thumb, now slick with saliva, from his mouth. They brush over and pinch his nipple with it, feeling precum slick their other hand as they do, "I could have you like this forever and I'd never get tired of it, my one and only”. He looks completely lost in the throes of pleasure, the grip on their robe vicelike, his moans wordless and probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but they don't care. Maybe they too should commission someone to capture this in a painting, and a wicked grin splits their face at the thought.

He's definitely close to the edge now, and their hand drastically picks up the pace, whispering in his ear, "come for me, Lucio".  
At the command he didn't know he was waiting for, with a final shout the dam breaks, cum shooting out and covering the apprentice's hand and his stomach. They slow their pace, letting him ride it out and come down from the orgasm.

After a solid minute the tremors stop and his moans trail off into silence. For a moment, the Apprentice wonders if they might have overdone it, knocking him out. But they don’t need to wait much longer for him to remove the arm over his eyes and look at them. He’s still breathing hard, his barely-focused eyes opened to a squint, wandering until they fix on the Apprentice. Their robe is hanging uselessly around their shoulders, his fervent wrenching having left the Apprentice almost bare, the responsible hand now laying limp at their side. It’s a surprise the robe is still whole, after that.

"Holy shit" is the only thing he can manage before his eyes slide to the ceiling, swallowing thickly. The Apprentice laughs, amused at having rendered their chatterbox of a partner virtually wordless. Regarding Lucio, who apparently still needed a moment or two to collect himself, they move to wipe their hand and his chest off with a towel resting by the bed. Lucio completely misses the smirk that passes over their features when he lets out a soft sound, abdominal muscles and legs inadvertently twitching at the touch, pale flesh still so, so sensitive.

They wonder briefly how it would look if they continued stimulating, how far they could take it. The thought makes their hair stand on end and sends butterflies flying around in their stomach, the thought being just a little too exciting to handle after all that. One look at Lucio, still very much out of it, and they decide they’ll push their luck some other day.

Feeling just a touch awkward to be sitting there, they clear their throat and set the towel aside, instead leaning in to brush locks of blonde hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. He laughs breathlessly, eyes once again on the Apprentice, a teasing note to his voice "Well, looks like we'll both need another bath. Nice going".

His partner chuckles, moving in to press their lips to his once again. The kiss short, is almost chaste, and his hands reach to cup their cheeks.

When they separate, foreheads touching, it's the Apprentice's turn to blush: Lucio, his hair a mess, face still flush and eyes half lidded, so full of nothing short of absolute adoration, shameless and almost painfully sincere, like they’re the only thing in the world. Trust, warmth, want, safety, _love_. For a man of so many words, they all pale in comparison to that wordless gaze.

His thumbs brush their cheeks absentmindedly and they lean into the touch, sighing blissfully. They let Lucio pull them down to the bed with him, hugging them close. They lay against his chest, head resting in the crook of his neck as he buries his aquiline nose into their hair, letting out a blissed-out sigh of his own.

"Let's just stay here for a minute, then we’ll wash up," he whispers, voice a tinge gravelly from his earlier shouting, and they can feel him grin against their hair "I still need to pay you back for this, yeah?"

The Fools stay like that, drinking each other in, dogs napping together on the carpet just outside their room, the tea on the cupboard long since grown cold, the sparse clouds over the shop tinging pink in the setting sun, the two hearts beating as one.

**Author's Note:**

> It's all fun and games until they realize they forgot to close the got dang window and have to face the rest of the neighborhood tomorrow.


End file.
